


Solidarity

by Penstrokes



Category: The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: Gen, and it was better off as an idea, and so it was called the shittening, but my beta reader and only friend in the fandom, it may not be cringey to you but it's cringey to me, might do some editing later on to make it less cringey, says she likes it so I'm posting it, there was an attempt but it was shitty, this is more Greerians idea than mine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-14
Updated: 2016-04-14
Packaged: 2018-06-02 07:11:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6556810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penstrokes/pseuds/Penstrokes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elroy James Church has grown up in the warzone that is his own home at the hands of his father's drunken abuse. With no one to turn to and no hope of ever leaving, he turns to less savory methods of coping.</p><p>By the time he arrives in Uganda, he's bruised and beaten in more ways than one with a reputation that doesn't help his cause. He unexpectedly finds someone who cares. </p><p>Rewrite to be posted as second chapter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Solidarity

A/N: There was an attempt 2: Electric boogaloo. There will be edits made later one that makes it less disjointed and rambly and a pain in the ass to read. I want to push it out now while I still have time before the semester ends and I have to wait until after summer to write again. Shout out to employee-210 

 

Elroy Church can’t remember what it’s like to have a whole and loving family. Somewhere buried deep in his memory, maybe there’s a faint ghost of a happier time but it is elusive to him. It is a ghost of a memory of a photograph that taunts him, a promise that things had been better and would get better once again. It tears at his heart, his soul, forcing him to march ever forward in a false hopeful future.  
It gives him an empty hope.  
It kills him.  
Elroy Church knows the football season very well, not because he wants to, but because he has to. His very sanity, his safety to an extent depends on it, on something so arbitrary that to anyone else it was insanity. For Mrs. Church and her son, their fates depended heavily on how well a certain group of men were at throwing a ball around on a field, the number hung over their heads waiting to strike like a guillotine. He’d long since lost count of how many times he’d sat in his room, silently praying, listening and yet trying to tune out the sounds of that wretched game that his dad-if he could even be called one- was so obsessed with. The emotional rollercoaster, the deep feeling of near sickening relief when ‘they’ won, the overwhelming despair and agony when they lost and the aftermath was meted out. For longer than Elroy James Church can remember, his family’s ‘happiness’ depended solely on one thing. His father’s feelings were their own, were superior to their own,they were all that mattered.

The only part of his life where Elroy could say he understood what it was like to be ‘normal’ was when he was small, a snot nosed kid on the playground surrounded by other five year old kids like himself. Even then the poor boy was overcome with a foreboding feeling that something was wrong. He didn’t understand why he felt that way or what was wrong. 

He kept to himself for the most part, becoming a rather sheltered and aloof kid. Life went on, kids made friends with other kids, kids who weren’t Roy, who weren’t scared of loud noises and suddenly being touched. Kids who didn’t hide in their shells because that was all they knew. 

 

Try as he might to hide them, questions came, about the bruises, the scars and injuries. The truth was there, but he couldn’t tell anyone. How could he? Years of learning to stay silent, a chance to say something.  
Anything.  
He could end it all in a sentence. Or could he? Would this all backfire? Would things get worse for them? The thought of his mom taking even more of his dad’s abuse hurt him, like an aching wound in his very being.  
There was another thought, a more idealistic, dream like thought. The thought of it ending for good. But such a thing was impossible for him to fully grasp, to comprehend such a drastic change in his life.  
Right now, they were both very real, just within grasp.  
The moment of truth, the one that could change everything for better or for worse.  
He opened his mouth. And he lied.  
It was so much easier to lie, to portray a different reality with his words. He’d been doing it since he small, so perhaps that’s why he felt little guilt, little pain as he explained away the home brewed wounds with something bigger and badder.  
. 

 

He soon discovered why it was so satisfying to let himself lash out, to feel his fist connect with another person’s body. In the back of his mind the connections were being drawn but he drowned them out with the cries and sobs of whoever he was currently punching into the ground. Maybe he’d feel a little bad for them, after it was all said and done, when the anger and pent up negative feelings had washed away and the high he got from the endeavor washed away-maybe then he could feel remorse.  
It had all been a lie in the beginning but somewhere along the line it wasn’t anymore. Somewhere between the trickling of years that never stopped, it was no longer the case. The lie became the truth, and he’d accepted it with open arms.  
Just like he had all this time.  
Gone from the public was the quiet and obeying child in the corner. Instead a more mature, rebellious and loud aggressive teen who was almost a man had taken his place.

 

Elroy Church had built up quite the reputation by the time he made it out of Highschool, no one messed with him, no one but his dad but that had long been established as an unchangeable fact in his mere existence. Needless to say, he wasn’t very popular when he arrived to start his missionary training. Between stifled whispers and anxious glances it was obvious he was not wanted there. The distance between himself and the others always stood out, but no one could blame them.  
He wouldn’t want to be next to himself either.  
To everyone’s relief there were no fist fights, no sudden brawls started by the obvious problematic member. Heck, even Elroy himself thought there might be some fighting chance of redemption for his pathetic self. 

Watching the others get paired up, he started to feel a sort of excitement-mixed with that apathy that had sustained him through his earlier years- swell in his chest. It was a confusing almost contradictory set of feelings but he understood well. He was ready and he was waiting.  
Finally, it was his turn, he glanced at the others as his own name was called wondering who it could possibly be. The others of course were not as enthusiastic but still wore that fake, nervous smile around him.  
He felt his heart sink, a stabbing blow, destroying what little hope had managed to ignite.  
When it was revealed that Elder Davis was the poor sap that got stuck with him, there was a not so subtle sigh of relief, gasps filling the air. Everyone exchanged looks, the poor kid looked like he didn’t know what to do, as if he’d been trapped in a cage with a starving lion. 

As if to add insult to injury, their mission location was even more hopeless, as if this could have gotten worse for either them somehow. 

Uganda.  
Africa. How ironic.  
A place Elroy might have known about had he actually had the will to pay attention in class. He knew roughly where it was and that it was probably hot as hell. The goodbyes between him and his dad were stale, mere thinly concealed emotionless and obligatory manners that neither cared for.  
His mom though-oh heavenly father- if he could take her with him, free her even temporarily, he would have. It killed him to leave, for her to stay behind while he didn’t need to. But that was why he’d signed up for this in the first place, hadn’t it? A chance to truly live, to experience what it was like to be alive.  
Through stubborn sorrowful tears he managed to get moving, the fellow he’d been paired up with, what was his name again?- looked at him funny. He couldn’t make out the expressions through his blurred vision but Elroy didn’t like it all too much. 

The plane ride over was just as unpleasant if not more so. Elroy was brooding, a thousand thoughts and worries bounced around in his head. The plane seats were cramped and he didn’t particularly like the sensation of sitting on his ass for so many hours on end. The Davis boy’s feeble attempt at conversation, an attempt at a sort of friendship, to break the ice ended abruptly and in an awkward silence. Elroy Church was in no mood for idle conversation, he wanted off this plane and he wanted it badly. He amused the thought of jumping off the plane and taking his chances and half entertained the idea too. 

After what seemed like an eternity, the two stepped off the plane leaving the comforting almost chilly air conditioning into the near oppressive heat that made them almost start sweating through their short shirts. There were few trees dotting the otherwise dusty barren landscape that only got more depressing the further away from the city they got and deeper into the country. The tiny village they were to spend the next two years of their life was certainly a shock compared to what they were used to. Even dinky old Wyoming wasn’t this...empty, and things weren’t going to get any better anytime soon as they were approached by men with guns. Roy had it up to here with this whole experience thus far and decided to do something.

Their first encounter with the other Elders they were stuck with was met with gasps of shock, and terror. The hut was almost completely silent save for the sound of wood creaking, the fan -one of them anyway- mutely whirring in a modest attempt to keep them from overheating, and movements of villagers outside. Elroy glared at them, making a point to stare them in the eyes, forcing them to look away uneasily. He faltered at the smaller blonde man who seemed to shrink away. Elroy couldn’t help but feel his heart skip a beat, a different kind of uneasiness filled his chest. When the two broke eye contact, there was a disappointed empty longing in his chest. When a certain red head appeared he couldn’t help but scowl again as the man reacted to his current state. His companion was peering out from behind him, as if to protect himself from all the looks the two were currently getting. 

The man cleared his throat before speaking, taking a moment to compose himself.  
“My name is Elder McKinley, I’m your district leader here at District Nine. You two must be… Elder Church and Elder Davis, am I right?” He said introducing himself while giving the two of them a look over. There was a slight frown on his face as he saw the injuries and already formed bruises on Elroy’s skin. He pursed his lips in disapproval.

Elder Davis stepped in to make things less awkward. Smiling best he could in this situation he confirmed that yes, they were the two in question. Church stayed silent, sizing up the district leader. He wasn’t very big or intimidating but he had to admit, there was a sense of command and authority, one that Elroy didn’t like very much.

There was a look in his eyes, a sort of glint that unsettled him.  
“Elder Church, please come with me for a moment.” He said in a very serious tone, leading him away to the bathroom. Curious eyes followed before quickly disappearing back to poor Davis who was more than happy to lead the attention towards something else.  
Begrudgingly he followed the shorter weaker man into the confined space. A silent tension built up between them as...what’s his name locked the door.  
Elroy awaited some sort of lecture, a moment to defy whatever rules would be set down. The sooner he asserted himself the better. The running of water snapped him out of his thoughts as he watched the other man wring excess water from a damp towel.  
“Let’s get you cleaned up first.” Elroy winced as Elder McKinley started to dab at his cuts and scrapes.  
A loud hissing escaped his lips despite his best efforts.  
“I don’t know what type of life you’ve lived before coming here but things are different here in Uganda.” He chastised gently, a faint sing song tune to his voice. 

“Things happen.You do what you’ve got to do.” He commented, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. There was a deep bruise on the side of his face, a cut across the bridge of his nose. Dark sharp eyes staring back at him from under a dark neatly combed shock of dark hair. Nearly the same as he’d seen every day yet it felt...different somehow. Despite the stinging pain and the pin prick of tears in his eyes he almost welcomed it and he didn’t know why. Maybe it was because he was no longer as dirty as he’d been moments before.  
He let himself relax a little bit, as the other man’s hands carefully danced across his skin.

“I certainly can’t deny that, however different circumstances call for different methods of achieving things don’t they?” The district leader questioned casually.  
“....” Was Elder Church’s only response.

“There you go, looking better already.” The redhead chirped, stepping away to admire his work. 

“..Thanks..” He replied awkwardly, not used to having to just talk to someone in a way that didn’t involving getting into a brawl of some sort or getting reprimanded. He could no longer rely on that hardened shell that had been there for him for years on end, the usual series of events to guide him and his outcomes. The sickening feeling of being out of place and out of line was growing unbearable, he turned to leave not wanting to be sucked into those feelings he had when he was younger, weaker and stuck at home.  
“We’re not done yet, Elder Church.” Elder Mckinley informed him with a more familiar stern expression, as he started dabbing some disinfecting cream onto his wounds, covering hem in bandages.

“We aren’t?” Elroy asked in a confused state, having let his guard down for the first time in a painfully long time. He wanted to leave yet he wanted to stay. He didn’t know what he wanted anymore. 

“No. We’re not.” He repeated, turning away to pull out a strange small bag. It was...make up. He raised an eyebrow upon recognizing it. He’d seen his own mother carry it around, using it for….he quickly forced his mind away from it, going somewhere, somewhen else. 

“Just sit.” He commanded as he rummaged through the bag with deft skill and speed. As he started to get to work, lightly brushing and powdering this way and that. He winced as he passed over a particularly large bruise by his eye. 

“You’re...skilled.” He noted, not saying much else. The two made eye contact, staring at one another but without any animosity. They were seeing eye to eye, not on a physical level, which they were but on a far different more personal level. One that didn’t need words, a feeling, intuition perhaps or just a long buried want of understanding?

“Mmhmm. I suppose I could say the same about you.” He answered somewhat distant, distracted yet focusing intently as he continued his work. Elroy was itching to say something, to want to know and yet he didn’t want to ruin this-this whatever this was.  
When he moved away he found himself asking a question, not the one that pressed on the edges of his curiosity but was the tip of his tongue, the forefront of his mind the most. 

“Why…” The sentence died, hanging mid air as Elder McKinley stopped to look back at him expectantly, waiting.

Gathering up the words and the courage to actually say it he tried again, that vulnerable feeling was stronger now, urging him to ask the question that had been buried in him for so long. It wasn’t the person he needed it to hear it from the most in his life, but he still needed to know. And yet nothing came out, his mouth wouldn’t say it, could he even form the words he wanted to so desperately? 

“I am responsible for the wellbeing of everyone here and that includes you, Elder Church. You may not be the perfect missionary but you’re still mine to look after and I intend to do so to the best of my ability.”

Suddenly the ginger man’s eyes lit up.  
“What’s your name?” He asked. Elroy looked at him like he was daft.

“It’s Elder Church, we’ve-”

He shook his head.  
“No, your given name. Mine is Connor. Connor McKinely.” 

“...It’s Elroy. Why are you telling me this?” 

“It goes against protocol but perhaps it will make things easier for you to transition to your new surroundings.” 

 

“You should be fine now. Just be careful or you’ll ruin it. Wouldn’t want that now, would you?” Connor said as he put his little secret stash away.

“I...yeah. I’ll do that.” 

As Elroy and Connor stepped out of the bathroom together, the cheerful conversation that had been had between the others fell silent as they all turned to look at them. Without that nearly as aggressive persona protecting him he felt vulnerable, almost….new in a strange sense.

Elder Mckinley clasped his shoulder smiling brightly as if nothing had happened.

“Alright Elders, let’s get things settled and ready for tomorrow. It’s a big day tomorrow full of possibilities and we’ve got many things to do.”

**Author's Note:**

> The idea is more Greerian's idea and I'm pretty sure I botched it horribly. Oh well, give me a break it's a 6 page thing, I don't do well with super long passages but just writing that one part where Connor cleans up Church (Elroy) didn't have that much impact without context but the context isn't as good as it should have been because it's a whole god damn life story 19 years of backstory I can't do that man.
> 
> You can see where my brain just kind of stopped trying and struggled.
> 
> it's not nearly as good as Night Time Comforts but the person I wrote that fic for says she likes this one so I trust her judgement. 
> 
> Also shout out to employee-210 for drawing a piece of art for this fic, found here:  
> http://employee-210.tumblr.com/post/142656155644


End file.
